


Natural

by yeaka



Series: Yutopian Zoo [22]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Animal Ears, Animal Traits, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13108854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Victor tries to tucker Yuuri out.





	Natural

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is set in the same partial-animal AU as some of my other ficlets, but it’s stand-alone and you don’t need to read them for this. (Long story short, human!Victor bought serow!Yuuri from the zoo.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The baths don’t seem to do much now; Yuuri perpetually reeks of _sex_ no matter what Victor does, and the towels are no more useful—he’s always _wet_ , always slick with sweet and precum caked against his thighs. He writhes and moans when Victor carries him anywhere, but he does that in bed too, arching off the mattress and spreading his legs right open. He runs his hands everywhere—his own body or Victor’s—and he scents Victor’s bed so much that the posts are always damp. It’s all Victor can do to keep his head together—to feed and wash and care for Yuuri, always with a glass of water. Yuuri’s glassy-eyed and desperate. Days in, even when night falls and the stars outside the loft’s tall window are all the light that’s left, Yuuri doesn’t make it easy. 

Yuuri pushes harder against all of Victor’s cuddling, even bucking his horns lightly against Victor’s shoulder. Victor knows that Yuuri’s trying to push him over, wanting to mount him again, but Victor’s already so sore that he’s been walking with a limp. And Yuuri’s exhausted too—he _knows that_ , because Yuuri can barely stay up on hands and knees anymore. Yuuri’s insatiable anyway. Victor wonders faintly when was the last time, if ever, that he hade a mate to spend his rut with.

In the zoo that Victor bought him from, Yuuri was just put in isolation. His rut season would last a month, even two, and he’d see no one except the handlers, only there to make sure that he ate and drank, maybe helping him off to the washroom. Phichit snuck Victor in for a few short visits, but they weren’t enough, and they didn’t _fuck_ —they hadn’t talked, and it just wouldn’t have been _right_ to take Yuuri anyway. Now it is. Now Yuuri nuzzles into the crook of Victor’s shoulder, burning face hot against Victor’s throat, and he moans some garbled form of Victor’s name, then a few things in Japanese.

“Sleep, love,” Victor tells him, one step from sleep himself. But Yuuri doesn’t seem to hear him. He wonders if Yuuri can even _see_ him, or if it’s just a haze of pheromones. The last time Yuuri left the cabin, he didn’t have his glasses, and he went into rut without them, and Victor doesn’t try to put them on him now. He’d just crack them with how snuggly he is. He’s cute anyway. Even if he’s driving Victor a little crazy. He opens his mouth against Victor’s neck and starts to wetly nip at it, his hands roaming under the blankets and all over Victor’s body.

For a long moment, Victor just looks at his partner, because that’s what Yuuri is: what Yuuri’s become. His boyfriend, maybe, if a hybrid and human can be that. Yuuri’s called him _mate_. Sometimes he thinks of putting a ring on Yuuri’s finger, but Yuuri probably wouldn’t understand.

Yuuri’s _beautiful_ : creamy skin flushed crimson, sweat-beaded and glistening, eyes so thickly dilated that they’re almost as jet-black as his bedridden hair. Victor even likes his soft ears, and the little tuft of a tail that peaks just above his ass. Then Victor’s looked enough, and it’s too late: Yuuri’s gone and gotten him aroused. He didn’t think he could be anymore, not without some rest, considering how many rounds they’ve had in just the last twelve hours. He can feel that Yuuri’s still hard, because Yuuri ruts against his hip, drizzling new precum everywhere.

He finally murmurs, “Okay.” Yuuri perks up immediately, face splitting with his grin, eyes crinkling with joy. It makes him even prettier. Victor’s heart is racing as much from _love_ as lust, like only Yuuri does to him. He tells Yuuri, “But I can’t take you again so soon, so you’ll have to let me do it this time.” After all the talk of mounting and breeding him, he thinks Yuuri might balk at the suggestion. But Yuuri only nods, then tries to roll over, only to get twisted in the blankets.

Victor chuckles and kisses his cheek. Yuuri settles down, right onto his back, though he looks cutely confused about it. So far, they’ve only done it the serow way—up on all fours, the other over top. Victor holds Yuuri down as he shifts over Yuuri’s body. He tries to hold himself up but probably doesn’t manage much, too tired for proper support of his own weight, but Yuuri doesn’t seem to mind. Yuuri just tries to kiss him, and Victor does, losing himself in a few sloppy passes of their tongues. 

Then Yuuri bucks his hips against Victor’s again, and their cocks brush together, sending sparks off in Victor’s mind and reminding him of exactly what he’s doing. He keeps his tongue in Yuuri’s mouth as one hand roams lower, skimming down the lithe curves of Yuuri’s side to drift over his plush thigh, soft but soaked and so, so tempting. Victor gives it a fond squeeze and nudges Yuuri’s legs wider open—Yuuri moans and obliges. Even through his fervor, he’s well behaved.

Victor rewards him in kisses. Victor skims around his cock, only touching it lightly, though Yuuri mewls each time. That’s another road, one that probably won’t tucker Yuuri out enough, and Victor wants to make sure they get some sleep tonight. So he bypasses the handjob in favour of collecting Yuuri’s precum and sloshing it down behind Yuuri’s taut balls, rubbing it along his taint, especially at his hole. A shiver runs down Victor’s spine when he finds it, one that Yuuri mirrors. There’s no room or light to stop and look at it now, but Victor knows from the last few days just how good it looks. He rubs the puckered brim with his thumb, drenching it as much as he can, and he accidentally pops inside before he’s ready. Yuuri whimpers at the intrusion, even though he probably sucked Victor in on purpose. 

With one finger at a time, Victor pistons into Yuuri’s channel. It’s even hotter than Yuuri’s face, which Victor didn’t think possible, and it feels tight but loosens quickly, dilating open as Yuuri shivers and moans. His body is so _pliant_ , and Victor wonders if it’s only for rut, or if Yuuri’s always this easy to prepare. Victor has him stretched open in no time, impaled on three fingers and steadily taking more. Yuuri humps Victor’s hand while Victor focuses on his task, rather than rubbing his own hard cock against Yuuri’s soft stomach, until he can’t take anymore.

Yuuri whines loudly when Victor leaves, but Victor promises, “I’ve got you,” and Yuuri settles down. He visibly fights to lie still, to be good and sweet for Victor, and he _is_ : _so very good._ He’s the best thing in Victor’s life: all Victor ever wanted. Victor thinks of that while he lines himself up with Yuuri’s whole: just how damn _lucky_ he is to be here.

Even if Yuuri’s insatiable. Even if Victor’s ass hurts from each sudden movement and he can barely hold himself up long enough to get it right. Yuuri whispers, “ _Victor_...”

And Victor slams in, unable to hold back. Yuuri absolutely _shrieks_ , the sound echoing throughout the wooden tent above them. Victor grits back his own noise, still focused on pushing in, and it’s _easy_ —Yuuri sucks him right down, bit by sudden bit, until Victor’s buried to the hilt and squeezed so tight that he sees stars. The whole experience is dizzying, but _wonderful_ , so _hot_. He trembles above Yuuri, propped up on one arm, until he has the strength to move.

Then he tries to pull out. He pushes back in and starts to rock, forward and back, in little, staccato movements, until he finds his rhythm, and a certain spot makes tears form in the corners of Yuuri’s eyes. Victor nuzzles Yuuri’s face like Yuuri always does to him. Except now they’re facing one another, lying flush together, bodies touching _everywhere._ He can feel Yuuri’s stiff cock sandwiched against his stomach. He doesn’t touch it, not yet, because he knows Yuuri’s orgasms come too easy now. Yuuri licks at the side of Victor’s mouth; Victor turns for a proper kiss.

It isn’t really _fucking_. This round is too slow, too gentle, more them rocking together than pounding at the mattress. Victor likes to think of it as making love, because he does _love Yuuri_ , more than anything, and he thinks Yuuri might love him too. Yuuri kisses like he’s in love: moans Victor’s name like he’d have no one else. Victor fills him up and grinds it in, utterly overwhelmed. 

Victor goes as long as he can. Yuuri’s stamina is extraordinary, even during rut, even if it’s punctuated by a dozen orgasms that hardly slow him down. Victor used to pride himself on his athlete’s stamina, but it’s nowhere near that. After such a trying day, he doesn’t stand a chance. He can feel himself rapidly approaching the end, and he forces himself to _move_ —he squeezes one hand between them to take hold of Yuuri’s cock. The other searches blindly through the blankets, until he finds Yuuri’s arm—he trails down it to Yuuri’s hand and interlocks their fingers. Yuuri moans against his lips. Victor squeezes Yuuri’s cock, and just like that, Yuuri’s bursting, crying out into Victor’s mouth and soaking Victor’s stomach.

He pumps Yuuri through it, as best he can with his own orgasm almost there—and that’s what tips him over: Yuuri coming. Yuuri’s ass clenches down on Victor’s cock, so nauseatingly _rapturous_ that Victor’s torn apart. His orgasm hits him like a freight train, throwing him right off the rails—he pours himself into Yuuri’s body and thrusts out every drop. 

Yuuri’s mouth is heaven. Yuuri’s body is his sanctuary. Facing Yuuri like this, feeling Yuuri’s racing pulse against his palm, only makes it better. Victor shudders and rides it out, savouring every second. Yuuri’s free arm wraps around him, clinging tight. Victor understands. He wants to hold Yuuri too and never once let go.

But all good things come to their ends. As the orgasm slowly putters out, Victor’s mind ebbs right back in, still exhausted though he is. He feels like he’s panting so hard that he’ll collapse, and he does, weight crushing Yuuri down. Yuuri gives a little ‘oomph’ and just nuzzles right up into him. It feels less insistent. Or maybe Victor’s too brain-addled to tell.

He pulls off when he can. He pulls out of the cloying heat that is Yuuri’s channel. Yuuri gasps but does no more. He lies still as Victor settles back down beside him, still safely cocooned in all the blankets. That probably wasn’t smart—probably just overheated him even more. But it’s already too late. He doesn’t even have the energy to push them down. He lies next to Yuuri, staring at Yuuri’s perfect face, still utterly besotted. Yuuri looks no better.

But his eyes finally flutter closed. His grinding and squirming die out, until he’s just lying against Victor, hopefully just as satisfied and satiated. He slurs in broken-sounding English, “I... love you... _Victor_...”

Victor’s heart swells. He promises, “Love you, too,” and kisses Yuuri’s forehead.

Then Yuuri’s breathing evens out, his wild fever finally asleep. 

Victor curls into him and follows suit, already lost in giddy dreams.


End file.
